


Into The Light

by captainswanapproved



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainswanapproved/pseuds/captainswanapproved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week after Liam dies, Killian falls through a portal and ends up in Boston in 2001. Meanwhile, Emma Swan is just being released from prison. Years later they meet each other in Boston while Emma is on a job. Will Emma and Killian be able to open up to each other, especially since there is still a curse to be broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Liam Jones was gone. His captain. His beloved brother.

It had been a week since his death, and Killian Jones was now the captain of the newly named Jolly Roger.

He had led his crew into piracy and they had gladly followed him. Killian had abandoned his naval garb in favor of a wardrobe comprised almost exclusively of black leather. He lined his eyes with kohl to give himself an edge of menace when at port. They sailed beneath the black flag and had already taken their first ship. Killian glanced at the small chest that was his prize. He still needed to divide the contents up amongst himself and his crew.

However, it was the end of the day and everyone but the night watch was asleep, and it was at night when Killian couldn't escape the nightmares, flashes of Liam dying over and over again, of his father leaving him, of never knowing his mother because she died in childbirth. Everyone he loved had left him.

He was alone save for his code and his crew.

Normally, Killian wouldn't indulge, but he took a flask of rum in his hand and drained the contents. Over the past week, rum had become his constant bedfellow, in hopes that if he drank himself into a stupor it would chase away the nightmares. It never really worked, but it was the best medicine he had.

-/-

Killian awoke to the wild shouts of his crew. One of the men was pounding in his door. "Captain, there's a storm coming."

"Liam," said Killian aloud, before he remembered that he was the captain and he was responsible for steering his crew out of harms way.

The knowledge and responsibility invigorated him and he sprang to his feet, grabbed his leather duster and left his quarters.

Rain was coming down in thick sheets, the ocean was dark and angry, tossing the Jolly Roger to and fro like she was nothing but a toy.

Killian took a deep breath to steady himself before making his way to the helm. He started barking orders, raising his voice who he could be heard over the wind. It was his first crisis as a sea captain, and he knew he couldn't let his crew down. He couldn't lose anyone else.

"Mr. Smee," he roared, "take hold of the wheel."

His stout, red capped first mate rushed to obey his command.

Killian made his way to the port side of the ship, gazing out over the angry ocean, only to see the beginnings of a maelstrom. "Maelstrom," he shouted, "We'll have to steer her away before the ship is smashed to bits. Tie everything down and get to your stations."

It was going to take every single crewman to maneuver the ship out of this deadly situation. Killian climbed onto the edge of the ship, holding tightly to the rigging, so he could observe the progress.

The ship rocked violently, but Killian held tightly and continued to shout out glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening. The ship was right beside a full fledged maelstrom, and Killian could feel his brother's beloved vessel, the closest thing he had to a home, getting pulled into the current. "Go below, men!" Killian commanded. Perhaps they would get lucky, and the ship wouldn't be destroyed. The lives of his men would be spared.

"Captain, are you coming," yelled Smee as he ran from the helm.

"No," said Killian, as he jumped down to replace him. "You're in charge below. All of you are to stay below until the storm passes. Do not worry about me. Now go."

Smee hesitated before saluting. "Best of luck, Captain Jones."

A moment later, his crew was safely below. Killian turned the wheel tithe all his strength. "Come on, old girl," he whispered against the wood.

The ship rocked violently once more, and Killian lost his footing. He slammed into the rail of the ship. He struggled to get to his feet, but the ship was going down into the storm. Everything was slick from the rain, and there was no chance for a proper grip.

The ship pitched forward, and Killian was flung over the side. He felt the pain of a thousand pricking needles as he landed in the frigid waters, and then the current was pulling him in. Hh took one last gulp of air before he was pulled under. Then he was falling, and he could only guess he was falling into the eye of the maelstrom.

I'm sorry brother, I failed you.

Then his world went black.

-/-

Killian's eyes opened slowly. His back was flat against a solid surface, and a harsh light was shining above his head. Killian glanced around the room. Everything was white and silver and sterile. Was he in Davy Jones' Locker? Surely he'd died in that storm.

A shadow then obscured the light, and he was looking into the face of a man who was several years older than himself. "Ah, good, you're awake. We thought you weren't going to make it for a while."

"Where am I?" asked Killian, barely able to get the words out.

"You're in Boston Massachusetts. The year is 2001. Do you remember your name?"

"Killian," he rasped. "Killian Jones."

"Well, Mr. Jones, don't worry. We'll find out where you belong."

Killian sincerely doubted it, for deep down, he was certain that he was no longer in his own world. Or time.

He was nothing more than a lost boy.

-/-

Phoenix, Arizona- 2001.

"Well, Miss Swan," said the prison warden, "You're free to go."

Emma Swan took the keys that the warden offered her. "Thanks," she said, before turning on her heel and leaving.

The yellow bug was waiting outside for her, and Emma still had no idea how it had gotten there. Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of Neal's betrayal.

She opened the door and tossed her bag on the passenger's seat. She glanced into the back seat, half expecting Neal to be waiting for her there, just like the day the met. But it was empty, just like the space he'd created in her heart. Of course he hadn't shown up. He was nothing but a coward who had abandoned her.

Emma angrily swiped away a few tears that had started to fall. She yanked open the glove compartment and took out a map, unfolding it carefully. Tallahassee, Florida was circled in red ink.

She'd go there and hunt Neal down and at least then she'd get the answers she deserved. Emma gripped her swan necklace before turning the keys. She'd never trust anyone with her heart ever again. The engine roared to life, and she was on her way.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing response to the prologue. You all are awesome. So I took a little artistic liberty with the logistics of this fic. Normally if someone with no identification showed up, it would be a long and complicated process to get resolved. For the purposes of this story, though, I condensed the process. Also, in this fic, Ingrid is not the Snow Queen. Although I did write the character with her in mind. I think that's it. Reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Killian had only been in this world for only a few hours and he already hated it. Its only redeeming quality was the fact that there appeared to be no magic in this realm, or it at least was not as common. Magic had cost him his brother, so he truly wanted nothing more to do with it.

After making sure he had no broken bones or a concussion, the doctor left his room so he could rest for the evening. Killian's dreams were plagued with images of falling through the portal, losing his brother, losing his ship, and losing his crew. He desperately wished that he had died in that blasted portal. at least then he'd be with Liam.

A woman woke him up early the following morning. "Mr. Jones?" she questioned.

Killian blinked, hesitating a moment before he remembered that he'd told the doctor his name. The doctor must have told this woman. "Aye," he said blearily.

"The doctor would like to see you in his office. Can you walk on your own?"

Killian swung his legs over the edge of the bed, surprised to feel a sweep of thin fabric across his ankles. It was then that he remembered that they had taken away his leathers. Instead he was wearing some kind of infernal gown like an invalid. He hoped he would get his leathers back. Otherwise he truly would have lost everything.

The woman grabbed his arm to steady him. "Right this way," she said, escorting him out of the room.

-/-

The doctor's office was was pristine and organized just like the rest of the place. Killian shifted nervously in the seat.

"Now, Mr. Jones, I have several questions for you," said the doctor. "But first I realized that I never properly introduced myself. I'm Doctor Smith."

"Pleasure," said Killian dryly.

The doctor eyed him warily. "Okay, let us begin. What is your full name?"

"Killian Bartholomew Jones," said Killian.

"And how old are you?"

"Eighteen years of age."

"Where were you born?"

Killian chewed his lower lip. "I can't say I remember."

The doctor frowned. "Well, with your accent it's sounds like you're from abroad. But since you seem to have lost and forgotten your identity we'll say you were born in Boston."

"Sound's fair."

"I'm going to level with you, Mr. Jones. The hospital staff searched your possessions and we found no trace of identification. It's rather disconcerting. But since it appears that you cannot remember your past, you can get a new start. We'll get you a license, and a social security number, the works. The hospital has a small funding allowance for special cases like these. We'll get you a bit of money, and you can start a new life."

"That is very kind of you. I am in your debt, sir," said Killian. "I do have one question though."

"Of course."

"Will I get my possessions returned to me."

"Of course," said the doctor. "Although, a bit of advice. You might want to get rid of the pirate jacket and exchange it for a normal leather jacket."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Killian, with a touch of sarcasm.

"We're going to keep here for a a while until we get your paper work all sorted will also give you some time to get adjusted to reality again. In a few days, a hospital official will escort you to the Department of Motor Vehicles so you can get a license. In the mean time, you should rest as much as you can. And if any of your memories start to return, let either me or one of the nurses know. Any questions?"

Killian shook his head.

"Very well. You may return to your room, Mr. Jones,"

-/-

It took several weeks to get Killian's paperwork all sorted out, but eventually, he as an official American citizen.

Killian was grateful that this night was his last night in the hospital. Hospital life was a bloody miserable existence. The food was not even comparable to the food he'd eaten during months away at sea. He especially detested a wiggly gelatinous substance called Jell-o, and vowed that as long as he was in this world he would never eat it again.

One of the young nurses had gone through the trouble of finding him a few items of modern clothing, including a sleek new leather jacket. She'd blushed as she handed the bundle of clothing to him. "My treat," she said softly.

Killian merely uttered a gruff, "Thank you." He wanted to get out of this damned hospital and sever all ties to it. Flirting with nurses would be a waste of time.

Doctor Smith woke Killian up the following morning, and gave him a few moments to dress. "Well, Mr. Jones, here is one thousand dollars," he said, handing him a think envelope. Now, if you're frugal, it can help get you a new start. I suggest you try and find some sort of employment. You mentioned you were a sailor. I'd try looking down at the Marina."

"Is that close to the sea?" asked Killian.

"Of course," said Doctor Smith, giving him an odd look. "You certainly love the sea, don't you?"

"With all my heart," said Killian. "I'd actually like to get out of Boston for a bit. What state has the best shores?"

"Well, that I'm not sure of but my family often vacations in Florida. Miami is a bit crowded for my taste. My wife is quite fond of Tallahassee. I suggest you try going there. You should be able to find a decently priced apartment, and get a job at a harbor. Or at the very least something menial. You can take the greyhound bus. There is a stop just around the corner, and I gave you some small bills."

Killian smiled. At least there was one kind soul in this realm. "Thank you, Doctor Smith. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You seem like a decent fellow, Mr. Jones. I wish you the best of luck." He offered his hand to Killian, and he he shook it.

Killian pulled on his new leather jacked, grabbed his duffel bad and made sure he had the new wallet a nurse had given him. At the very least he could use his good looks to procure new items. This world was filled with many new things, and he knew it would be an adjustment. He just wished he didn't have to do it alone. But that was his lot in life now. He couldn't very well tell anyone that he came from the past and from a different realm. He'd live on his own. He'd survive. He had no other choice.

Killian left the hospital with his held high after asking one final favor of the nurses. He needed to know exactly how to get to Tallahassee. A pretty brunette nurse gave him a slip of paper with the buss number and the number of stops, and slipped him a little extra cash. Killian thanked her with a wink and a smile, and then left.

He rounded the corner, and looked up at a large sign that said 'Bus Stop' and waited for the appropriate bus.

The ride was long and and dull. He rode the bus long into the night and didn't arrive in Tallahassee Florida until the following day. The extra currency that the nurse had given him was gone now, and he only had a thousand dollars to his name, and a single bag that held all his earthly possessions, but he was close to the sea, and it was beautiful in the afternoon sunlight. At least he'd have some comfort here in this strange new land.

-/-

Killian spent the remaining hours of daylight walking around the city aimlessly. He felt the eyes of people watching him, since he was roaming around with a duffle bag. Killian couldn't find it in himself to care though. At the hospital, he'd been the subject of a lot of scrutiny. He thanked his lucky stars that the doctor had taken pity on him and helped him procure all of the legal documents he needed. He knew everything could have turned out worse if he's been treated by a lesser man.

The sun was about to set and Killian found himself in a quieter, more deserted part of the city. There were several empty alleys littered with debris, and Killian suspected this would be the place to spend his night. He hadn't slept in the streets since he was twelve. That's how Liam had found him, ragged, hungry and filthy, scraping to survive.

Killian walked into one of the dim alleys and carefully set his duffle bag down against a wall behind a large metal box. He peered in curiously, and his nose pinched at the odor. The bin was filled with refuse, but at least if he slept behind the container, he's be obscured from the view of passersby.

It would have to do. Killian Jones was no stranger to hardship, and this was simply another trial.

He sat down carefully on the ground and leaned his head against the brick wall. A rumble of thunder pierced the the calm of the evening. A storm was coming.

A few moments passed, and like Killian suspected it began to rain. Killian zipped up his new leather jacket and then began rummaging around in his duffle, puling out his pirate jacket. He pulled it over his body, grateful that he wouldn't get soaked by the downpour.

He sighed and burrowed further beneath his jacket, scrunching up his body, and pressing his back against the pavement. It was going to be a long night.

-/-

Emma Swan had been in Tallahassee for nearly a month and she still hadn't found Neal. Part of her still hoped that's she'd be able to find him and that they could still have a life together, like they'd planned. It was a pipe dream, but it was all she had to cling to.

She pulled up in front of a rundown Motel 6. The vacancy sign was burnt out, and the parking lot was nearly empty. She suspected she could lie low here for a while. Eventually she'd have to find a job, probably waiting tables or something. She couldn't get by on stealing forever. She had to grow up.

Emma removed the keys from the ignition and climbed into the back seat. There was a box with her meager possessions on the floor. She pulled out the white baby blanket and balled it up to use as a pillow. Then she climbed back to the front and leaned back the passenger seat. She'd been in worse positions before. Crashing in her car was nothing.

-/-

When Killian woke up the next morning he relieved to see that it had stopped raining. The alley was damp, and his hair was thick with moisture. He scrubbed his hand over his face and shook his head a bit as he rose from his position on the ground.

He resolved to find some sort of lodgings for tonight, suspecting that he couldn't spend all his nights in alleys without attracting suspicion. He knew very little of this world, but he had heard enough whispers in the hospital to know that he would need to find a proper place to stay.

Killian shook out his jacket and then carefully began to fold it up. It was one of the only things he had from his home, and he would take care of it. He placed it safely beneath his meager possessions, before picking up his duffle bag and going on his way, wondering what today would bring.

-/-

Around midday, Killian found a cozy looking diner by the shore. His stomach was rumbling and he knew that he'd have to spend a little of his precious currency.

The bell chimed as Killian entered the establishment. The place was nearly empty, save for an elderly couple sitting at a table in the corner, sipping something out of chipped mugs.

Killian was greeted by a kindly looking blonde woman, who was scrubbing the counter. "Please pick any seat you'd like, young man, I'll be with you in a moment."

Killian nodded and sunk into a booth near the counter, placing his duffle bag on the bench beside him. A moment later the woman appeared at his table. She looked him up and down, and Killian surmised that he must look pretty ragged because her smile faltered. "Poor boy, you look like you had a wretched night last night. I'll get you a cup of cocoa on the house." She handed him a sheet of paper that seemed to be covered in some sort of plastic film. "Take a look at the menu and see what you might like while I get your cocoa."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said softly. He idly wondered if cocoa was the same in this realm as it was in his. It had been a rare commodity in his life, seeing as he'd gone from the streets to a ship, but he remembered having some at an inn once, and the thought of a hot beverage on a chilly day warmed his insides.

The woman placed a piping hot mug in front of him a few minutes later, and topped it off with some sort of cream. "So, what looks good?" she asked with a smile.

Killian hadn't the foggiest idea of what to order. The fare in this world was mostly foreign to him. "What would you recommend?" he asked.

The woman studied him, and Killian didn't miss the pity in her expression. "You're new in town, aren't you?"

Killian blinked. "How did you guess?

"Well, you've got a bag, and forgive me for saying this, but you've got a lost look about you. It's a look I know all too well. My name is Ingrid. I'm the owner of this place."

Killian smiled slightly and held out his hand to her, which she took. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am. The name is Killian Jones."

"That's unique," said Ingrid. "Now, Killian, I would recommend a burger and fries. I'm not one to brag, but it's the favorite around here. You eat meat don't you?"

Killian nodded. "Coming right up then," said Ingrid as she walked away.

Killian looked down at his cocoa, raising the mug to his lips, and letting the rich substance wash over his tongue. It was sweet and creamy and the best thing he'd tasted in a while. He glanced over at Ingrid, who was talking to a man through a window behind the counter, the cook he assumed. At least there were some kind people in this world.

Thirty minutes later he finished eating and he had to admit that he'd quite liked what Ingrid had called a burger and fries. He'd had no such thing during his stay at the hospital. Killian withdrew his wallet and began to take out a few bills, but Ingrid placed a hand on his to to stop him. "It's on me, dear," she said.

"I couldn't—" he began.

Ingrid shook her head. "I insist. Now do you have a place to stay?"

Killian shook his head.

"There is a motel down the road. I see you've got a little cash, but it's not going to last forever. I could actually use a little help around here. You could clear tables and do dishes. It wouldn't be much, but it's something."

Killian stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

"I know what it's like to be alone, young man, and if someone hadn't helped me out when I was your age, I wouldn't own my own business now. So what do you say. Would you like to work here?"

"It would be an honor, ma'am."

Ingrid laughed. "Call me Ingrid. Ma'am makes me feel older than I am." Ingrid rook out her pad of paper from her apron and scribbled something down. "These are directions to the Motel 6. They have a weekly rate that makes it more affordable. It should do for temporary place to stay. Come back tomorrow and we'll get you situated."

"Thank you," said Killian, taking the paper from her hand.

-/-

Emma was a little achy from sleeping in the car. At least in prison she'd had her own bed, and however uncomfortable, it was still better than a car seat. Emma grabbed her small purse from the floor. She needed to stretch her legs.

Emma wandered down to the shoreline, which was a little bit away from the motel parking lot. She'd always loved the sea, not that she'd had a lot of opportunities to see it due to being tossed from foster home to foster home.

Emma approached the shoreline and toed off her shoes. She didn't mind getting sand on her clothing, and so she sat near the water, legs stretched out against the damp sand. The water rippled over her toes. Emma closed her eyes and flung back her head, breathing deeply. The sea was calming, and at the very least, while she was here she'd have it as a constant companion.

-/-

After Killian checked into his room, he left the motel. He was grateful that it was by a deserted stretch of beach. He crossed the mostly empty parking lot and headed towards the water. He'd changed into a set of fresh clothing and threw on his leather jacket to keep the chill away.

The sea breeze was revitalizing, and even though Killian missed the rocking sensation of a ship beneath his feet, the sea was enough to remind him of his beloved brother. Killian began to walk along the shoreline, reveling in the solitude. The city seemed pretty busy, but out by the beach it was peaceful, and Killian needed that peace.

As Killian shuffled along, he was surprised to come across a young woman sitting down by the water. Her blonde curls were whipping about slightly in the breeze. Her back was to him, and she hadn't seen him approach. How odd. She looked to be about his age.

Killian stopped, and opened his mouth before closing it again. He shouldn't disturb her.

The young woman stiffened slightly and Killian guessed she had noticed his presence.

She looked over her shoulder, her bottle green eyes widening when she saw him. "Oh, I didn't realize anyone else was out here," she mumbled.

"Forgive me for disturbing you," he said, tipping his head, knowing he sounded ever like the proper uptight lieutenant. "I'll go."

"You don't have to," she said quickly. "The beach doesn't belong to anyone."

"Aye, I suppose you're correct."

-/-

Emma looked up at the stranger. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he wasn't looking at her.

Emma's cheeks reddened as she realized how attractive he was, with dark windswept hair, jeans and a leather jacket. She'd caught a glimpse of deep blue when her eyes had first met his. A shiver ran along her spine. ""You can sit if you want," she blurted out before she could stop herself. She'd been alone for a year, and maybe a few moments with a stranger by the sea wouldn't be so bad.

He looked surprised, and almost nervous about her proposition. After a moment though he sat down next to her, leaving a generous amount of space between them.

They looked out across the water, neither of them speaking for several long moments. There was something nice though, about being with someone, even a complete stranger, and not speaking.

The waves continued to lap over her toes. She stole a glimpse at the man beside her. He was probably her age. Perhaps a little older.

As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned, and Emma's heart thrummed in her chest when their eyes met. She recognized something familiar in those deep blue eyes. The look of an orphan. Before she could come to her senses, she held out her hand to him and said in a low voice. "I'm Emma Swan."

His lips turned up a fraction. "I'm Killian Jones."


End file.
